Weightlifting mom, the oblivious ring and her pervert student.

We lived in an apartment. Just me and my mother. She was the only loving figure in my life, and the only one I needed. She was always there for me, she loved me so fiercely and so deeply that no one else mattered. She was definitely a fitness freak, constantly doing some sort of exercise. We didn't even have a TV in the lounge just a bench and some weights in front of a pristine leather couch. My bedroom had a PC which suited me just fine. My mother, Emma. A formidable woman in either meaning of the word. Strong, powerful, bountiful. She was a soccer player for our counties woman's team. Not very well known. The money she gets from that keeps us comfortable in our studio flat. She has a few clients who pay her for training at the local gym sometimes, just for extra expenses. My mother, Emma was tall for a woman, at 6 foot she towered over most people in our life. She was thick too, and muscled like a stallion. Her powerful legs hoisted a great backside, globally round and muscular. Her abs showed faintly and her breasts: heaving mounds that jutted outward; basket balls that clung to her shoulders. She played in goal, it was comical, and dangerous, to put her anywhere else. She moved around like a bulking lioness, terrifying; a complete red card magnet. None of the other woman stood a chance against her. It's a wonder she didn't choose rugby over soccer but I can't complain. She had long naturally blonde hair that was always done in a high ponytail. Her face was sharp. Wide lips and large blue deep set eyes, with a touch of eye shadow on. Other than that her makeup was non existent. Her natural beauty was radiant. I know how hot my mom is, she's the object of everyone's desire. I stopped having friends over because all they wanted to do was watch her workout. I have to admit sometimes I slyly peak through the door. Getting hard at the sight of my mother working out in the living room. A disgusting admission, but a true one.

I was playing a game when I heard a couple voices in the background. I scooped off a headphone from my ear to listen better. It was my mom. My independent, strong, loving mom... with someone else. The voices grew louder behind the shit door as they approached my bedroom, then got weaker as they went into the lounge. Naturally curious to see who my mother had invited in I scooted off my chair, and made my way into the hallway, and then to the lounge.

Who I saw surprised me. It was no-one, literally a nobody. A short, nerdy, loser. He went to my school and lived in the apartment next to ours. He was constantly bullied at school, I even took part in some ridiculing myself at some point. He was such an easy target. The little geek was basically a midget, four feet tall. He was blessed with the most unfortunate face. Buck teeth, beady eyes and thick rimmed glasses. Spots and a pointed nose. His spirit animal could only of been that of a mole-rat, for that he looked almost identical to one. His black hair in a bowl cut, not helping his looks whatsoever. He wasn't just bullied for his looks, but for his personality to. A creep through and through. He's been caught in the girls locker room, sniffing there clothes once they'd changed for sports. My mother had given him a ride home a couple times, he put his bag over his lap and sniffed at her sweaty gym clothes in the back. I only laughed at the pathetic loser, that was the closest he'd ever get to a woman's vagina in all his life. But here he was with my mother.

"uhhh hey, what's going on?" I asked confused. Trevor spasmed and turned quickly as if caught in the act of something, his beady eyes squinting at me. My mother turned naturally with a smile on her face "Hey son! Little Trevor here has asked me to be his personal trainer for the day! He just wants me to show him a few exercises that's all, we'll be done in an hour or so" she smiled at me. I felt strange, like someone has gripped my heart and pulled it down into a gaping pit of dread but I couldn't reason why. All that was before me was Trevor, holding... holding something. I can't remember what he was holding. Whatever it was it wasn't anything that should cause such pure anxiety to strike me "oh uhh ok, i'm just gunna read on the sofa" truthfully I just wanted to keep an eye on Trevor. I knew him well enough to to know this nerd was plotting something perverted. I was curious to see what, and when he acted in his filthy urges i'd be there to pounce on his freakish ass.